


Stormy Clouds

by Midnight30Sadness



Series: Silver Lining, Stormy Clouds [2]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alpha Bucky Barnes, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Angst, Bigotry & Prejudice, Captain America: The Winter Soldier, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Omega Steve Rogers, Post Mpreg, Sam Wilson Is a Good Bro, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, a bit of, associated with a/b/o, more tags will be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-13
Updated: 2021-01-13
Packaged: 2021-03-17 21:15:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,649
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28731810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnight30Sadness/pseuds/Midnight30Sadness
Summary: "For almost two years he has lived without Bucky. It has been rough and tiring and there were times when Steve felt like quitting but he did it. It is just that he can’t help but think that living with Bucky is better than living without him.He and Bucky and Sarah. They are all together no matter what, through thick and thin, through love and pain, through good and bad. Together.‘Till the end of the line."
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Series: Silver Lining, Stormy Clouds [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2106306
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	Stormy Clouds

**Author's Note:**

> hello everyone! so, here is the sequel of "silver lining"!  
> i would like to thank everyone who read that fic, gave comments, kudos and bookmarks... truly, sincerely thank you! it gave me a lot of confidence to post this new work.  
> so, the warnings of "silver lining" remain, so i would recommend reading that fic if you haven't, including the notes.  
> also, all the dates in this chapter and other chapters come from the mcu wikia, and i rewatch the movies to make sure i have the timeline correct - however, something might be wrong, so sorry in advance
> 
> anyway, i hope you guys enjoy! 😄  
> (as usual, please tell me if there is any weird grammar or mistakes, since english isn't my native language)

* * *

[27th January 2014]

Steve likes D.C.

Likes its certain calmness in comparison to the busy New York. It’s different. A good kind of different. And he longs to be independent, to be a bit free from the Avengers and their overprotective albeit cute tendencies. He doesn’t like to feel coddled and since having Sarah none of them seem to realize that sometimes they are suffocating him. He loves them but he needs distance. And D.C isn’t a bad place to live.

Still, it was hard to say goodbye to his apartment in Brooklyn. Once Sarah was born, Steve had only been the hospital another day and then was discharged. The serum had healed him completely in the first 24 hours and he was good to go.

He moved out of the Tower, not wanting to raise Sarah there when he had a perfectly good apartment. He’d painted the nursery a soft green, decorated with furniture (white with swirling patterns of gold) and bought everything he would need while he had been pregnant so he wouldn’t have to worry about anything when Sarah came.

He brought her home and she slept her first night in Brooklyn. And woke up about four times. Having a baby was more tiring and waning than Steve ever thought but he pulled through. One of the people that were there for me the most was Natasha. She had been a God send, even taking care of Sarah when he desperately needed to sleep. Having her there was a huge help and over time they bonded. He honestly considered her his friend – he just didn’t know if she felt the same. But he guessed she did.

Staying at home all the time was also a bit strange. Steve has always seen action and these months without fighting or training a lot – even if he tried as best as he could to take a jog, box, spar or even improve his technique in martial arts – took some adjustment.

Once Sarah turned a year old and Steve was pretty confident that no one would kidnap them or take her in the middle of night, he decided to get back in the game. He just needed someone to watch Sarah while he went on missions.

The Avengers had been put on hiatus until another alien invasion but Steve still talked to Nick Fury and asked if he had anything he could do. Fury told him that the STRIKE Team, the elite of the elite at SHIELD, was in need of a commanding officer and who better than Captain America. Except, the STRIKE Team was in the Triskelion, the headquarters of SHIELD in D.C. That’s what made Steve move. While he loved Brooklyn, he needed a change of scenery. He accepted Fury’s offer and packed up.

Driving to D.C wasn’t his best option but he didn’t want to put Sarah in an airplane, even if the drive was a little over four hours. He took his time, leaving Brooklyn early in morning, and driving off.

He stopped often, just to give Sarah some time to breath and such, even thought she was sleeping the entire drive.

When they got to D.C, it was almost two in the afternoon, and he parked his car (he missed his bike, sometimes) in the street. His new apartment was in a quiet area (which he is thankful for – he remembers the constant fear of being an Omega in a dangerous neighborhood) and was already filled with furniture (courtesy of SHIELD), so the only baggage he had was his and Sarah’s clothes, and some personal belongings, all of which fit in the trunk.

He sits in his car before taking a deep breath and climbing out, going around to grab Sarah. She is awake, wide gray eyes moving around the unfamiliar scene. He unstraps her, puts her little hat on her head, wraps her in the blanket (it was one of the first things he bought – large and fluffy and warm in light blue with tiny shields like his own) and lifts her out of the car, being careful with her head. He tucks her against his body to protect her from the cold and quickly shuts the door, locking the car.

He gets inside the building and notes that there is no elevator, so he takes the stairs. Sarah has one hand clenching his jacket’s lapel and is constantly moving around to see better, sucking on her pacifier while doing it.

He opens the door to the apartment – number 3 – and looks around. It’s bigger than he expected, light and airy, surprisingly clean with nice if not a bit antique furniture. It has two bedrooms and a lot of places for books. He didn’t bring a lot of things, knowing that this is temporary and will soon return to the familiarity of Brooklyn. Still, it is enough for now. It’s good.

“This is good,” he murmurs and glances at Sarah. She is watching the apartment like a hawk and then tilts her head up, eyes connecting with his. She seems to be trying to tell him something. “You like it, don’t you?” he asks and she responds by leaning forward and bumping her forehead against his jaw.

He smiles. It’s good.

* * *

[31st January 2014]

He spends exactly four days alone.

Four days.

Ninety-six hours.

Five thousand seven hundred and sixty minutes.

Nothing more. Maybe even less.

All he knows is that on the last day of January he wakes up all on his own, one of those moments when Sarah doesn’t wake him up first. He gets up, goes through his morning routine, basking in doing things at his own time without a crying baby to rush him, and then goes to the room next to his, stepping beyond the open door and seeing Sarah sleeping soundly in her crib, chest moving up and down. He readjusts the sheets around her and then leaves so she won’t wake up. He goes back to his bedroom, grabs the baby monitor off his bedside table as well as his phone, shrugs on a tank top and heads to the kitchen.

He freezes mid-step.

Natasha is sitting in his dining table, nursing a cup of coffee and going through a file that looks like a report for SHIELD. She is completely casual – barefoot, jeans and a tight tee, red hair brushing the light green fabric of the shirt. When she sees him, she simply nods and says, “Good morning.”

He doesn’t even know what to say. “How did you get in? I didn’t give you a key.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Do you really think I’d need one?”

“I guess.” He shrugs and decides to go with the flow on this one. He goes to the kitchen counter, setting his phone and baby monitor on top of it, removes a mug from the cupboard and pours the freshly-made coffee inside it, mixing in too much sugar. “How long have you been here?”

She looks over her shoulder at the clock in the wall and responds, “About half an hour.”

He frowns. “You got here at six in the morning?” Had she just come back from a mission? He tilts his head, seeing the papers she was filling, reading the words ‘MISSION REPORT’ at the top. He doesn’t duel on which mission since Nat is private about those things. He also ignores how she managed to get into his apartment, make coffee and stand around for thirty minutes without him even waking up once. He must be rusty. Or maybe she is just a great spy. He bets more on the latter.

“Yes. Decided to come see my _malyutka_ (little one).”

He sighs. “She’s sleeping.”

Somehow, when he wasn’t watching, Natasha and Sarah bonded. The baby had latched onto the redhead and Natasha seemed to equally like her. While he doesn’t like to judge, it did surprise him how good Natasha is with kids. She is comfortable, like an expert, as if she has been doing this for years and no one knows. It must be something that she doesn’t do often but is sure in her abilities. Now with Sarah’s birth, the redhead seems to be enjoying herself, a small, secretive smile on her face whenever Sarah smiles at her or is eager to go to her arms.

“You should go for a run, then.” Natasha suggests, sipping her coffee. Steve does the same and laughs into the bottom of the cup when she says that.

He leans on the counter. “I don’t even know what running feels like anymore.” He is really aching to _move_ , to do something to ease off the energy he has, to reduce the burning fire inside him.

“So go,” Natasha shrugs, like it is that simple.

“What about Sarah?” He asks, looking towards the direction to the corridor that lead to her room.

“I’ll watch her.” He raises an eyebrow. “I can watch a one year for a couple of hours, Rogers.”

“Are you sure?” He asks again, still uncertain. Sarah would be fine with Natasha but the feeling of actually letting her out of his sight, of _leaving_ her, is more powerful than his trust in Nat.

“Yes.” She seems confident and he sighs.

“Fine.” He concedes and she grins slightly, like she just won something important. “It’s just two hours. If she wakes up, give her some formula. You must know where the stuff is. I’ll have my phone. Call me if anything happens.”

She nods, not even mocking him. “You got it. Now go.”

He nods and goes to his room to change.

*

Steve breathes in the crisp, cold air of the morning as he slows to a stop. He has been running for a couple of hours now, doing lap after lap, unleashing the proverbial devil in his shoes. It feels great, empowering even. His running shirt clings to his skin with cool perspiration, his chest moves up and down rapidly, his lungs burn and his muscles ache slightly.

He looks around the park and sees the guy sitting down by a tree, breathing heavily. Steve has been running laps around him for a while and the guy’s reactions have been hilarious. He goes over and calls, “Need a medic?”

The guy turns to him and laughs. It’s a really nice laugh. “I need a new set of lungs.” Steve sets his hands in his hips. “Dude, you just ran like thirteen miles in thirty minutes.”

“Guess I got a late start.” Steve quips, grin turning up one corner of his mouth.

The guy chuckles. “Really? You should be ashamed of yourself. Should take another lap.” He then looks up at Steve more firmly. “Did you just take it? I assume you just took it.”

Steve notices the insignia on the guy’s grey sweatshirt. “What unit are you with?”

“Fifty-eighth Pararescue.” He responds. “But now I’m working down at the VA.” _Veterans Administration._ Steve has heard of it and he nods. The guy lifts up a hand. “Sam Wilson.”

Steve clasps it and helps him up. “Steve Rogers.”

“I kind of put that together.” He says and Steve jerks back slightly. How can he know his name? The he remembers. Must be that Smithsonian exhibit. It has his face plastered all over it as well as his name. Jesus. Does anyone else recognize him? He hopes not. Anonymity is surprisingly good. Sam continues. “Must have freaked you out coming home after the whole defrosting thing.”

The question hits a bit too close to home and Steve retreats. “It takes some getting used to.” He says cryptically and decides to go. “It’s good to meet you, Sam.” He turns around, ready to go home, where it is safe, to Sarah.

“It’s your bed, right?” Sam asks, following him.

“What’s that?” Steve pretends he doesn’t hear, just so that he can come up with a good answer.

“Your bed is too soft. When I was over there I slept on the ground and used rocks for pillows like a caveman. Now I’m home, lying in my bed and it’s like…” Sam shakes his head a bit.

“Lying on a marshmallow.” Steve continues, understanding. “Feel like I’m gonna sink right to the floor.” Sam smiles and agrees. “How long?”

“Two tours.” Sam answers and there is some darkness in his eyes. Something must have happened. “You must miss the good old days, huh?” He asks, drawing away from the subject. Steve can see it in his eyes that Sam is expecting a certain response from him – probably waiting for him to say that he loved the 40s, and the discrimination, and the goddamned bigotry that was around back then.

“Well, things aren’t so bad. Food is a lot better; we used to boil everything. No polio is good. Internet is so helpful.” The better treatment of minorities is good too, and so is Sarah, but he isn’t going to say that. Sam seems to be surprised by his answer, and he seems to have liked it if the glint in his eyes is anything to go by. “Been reading that a lot to catch up.”

Sam licks his lips and suggests. “Marvin Gaye. 1972. _Troubleman_ soundtrack.” Steve nods and pulls out his tiny notebook. “Everything you missed jammed into one album.”

“I’ll put it on the list.” He writes down what Sam said and his phone rings. He immediately thinks the worst and fishes it out of his pocket. It’s a photo that Natasha sent through Snapchat of her and Sarah. _Look who’s awake!_ _J_ , it reads and he smiles. He gets a text immediately after. _I’m coming to get you_. _Meet you at the curb._

“Alright, Sam. I gotta go.” Steve says, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Thank for the run.” Then he can’t help himself. “If that’s what you wanna call running.”

Sam smirks. “Oh, that’s how it is?”

“That’s how it is.” Steve agrees and moves away, looking back when Sam speaks.

“Okay. Anytime you wanna stop by the VA to make me look awesome in front of the girl in the front desk just let me know.” Steve nods as he listens to Sam.

“I’ll keep it in mind.” Steve hears the roar of Natasha’s Corvette pulling up behind him. He has learned that she has a thing for sports cars and will do anything to drive them.

“Okay.” Sam gives him an adorable smile and Steve practically melts into a pile of goo.

Natasha pulls up and rolls down the window. “Hey fellas. Either one of you know where the Smithsonian is? I’m here to pick up a fossil.” She smirks like she has just told the best joke on the planet and he almost rolls his eyes.

“You’re hilarious.” He intones flatly. He opens the car door and folds himself inside, looking at his right to see Sam crouching so he’d look at them better.

“How you doing?” Sam asks Natasha at her quizzical look.

“Hey.” She greets back in that smooth way of hers.

Steve turns to Sam. “Can’t run everywhere.”

He agrees. “No, you can’t.” The Corvette’s engine roars powerfully.

Steve turns back to the front, closes the window and Natasha gives Sam a final smirk before driving off, tires screeching against the asphalt.

The blonde shifts and sees Sarah strapped in a car seat and wonders how Natasha could fit that inside this minuscule car, but the redhead talks first.

“What’s his name?” her voice is smooth, devoid of emotion and Steve knows what is coming so he is almost tempted not to answer.

But Natasha is his friend and it would be rude.

“His name is Sam Wilson. He works at the VA.”

She simply hums and silence falls over them, broken only by Sarah’s giggles and babbling as she talks to her Bucky Bear. It last for so long, Steve is sure Natasha will leave it alone until–

“Steve Wilson.” She muses and he _does_ roll his eyes now.

“Don’t.” he warns.

“He’s cute.” She compliments and Sarah gurgles behind them. He turns to look at her, smiles and she gives him one in return.

“He’s _very_ cute.” Steve corrects. “And very polite.”

“Your dream man.” Natasha jokes.

He sighs, feeling a bit of annoyance creeping up. “Are you my matchmaker?”

She simply smirks and continues driving. He thinks they are done talking but then she starts softly singing. “Sam and Steve, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”

“You are a child.” He tells seriously and her smirks widens to a smile.

“And you’re a grandpa.” She adjusts the rearview mirror to look at Sarah. “Right, _malyutka_?” The baby squeaks and smiles again.

Steve sighs again, defeated. He is being ganged up on.

*

They are both bickering, walking up the stairs to Steve’s apartment, reaching his floor when the door directly next to his – number 5 – opens. A young woman about his age comes out, the same height as Natasha with copper colored skin and black curly hair. She is holding a bunch of pamphlets in her hands and she stops when she sees them. Her dark eyes move to Sarah, who is perched on Steve’s arms, watching the woman in return.

“She’s a cutie.” The woman comments, smiling at the baby.

“Thank you.” Steve smiles a bit too. Natasha just looks suspicious.

The woman continues. “You wouldn’t be needing a babysitter, would you?”

The question is a surprise. Steve thinks about it. He will be going back to work in a few days and he needs someone to watch Sarah while he is away. “Actually, I am.” He can practically smell Natasha’s distrust.

The woman smiles. “That’s great. I just opened a small daycare a block away.” She hands them one of the pamphlets, white paper with blocky, colorful letters that spell out ‘Miss Juliana’s Daycare’ with all the information underneath. “It’s totally safe. In fact, I can give you my phone number and you can come by to see for yourself.”

“Sure.” Steve nods, really hoping this woman isn’t a terrorist because he does need a good daycare. They are exchanging phone numbers when Natasha speaks.

“What’s your name?” she asks, uttering her first words since the conversation started.

The woman smiles. “Right, of course. I’m Juliana Silva.”

“Hey. I’m Steve, this is Sarah,” he jerks the arm holding the baby a bit and turns to Natasha. “And this is Nat—”

“Natalie.” Natasha interjects and he barely holds onto his facial expression. “Is that an accent?”

Juliana nods, obviously a bit intimidated by Natasha’s stare but trying to ignore it. “Yes. I’m Brazilian.”

“Oh, nice country.” Natasha compliments with a smile and Steve isn’t even sure what is happening right now.

“Okay,” he drawls, getting back Juliana’s attention. “I’ll swing by when I can.”

She smiles. “That’s great. Thank you.” She starts to move away. “Spread the word.” And she’s off, going down the stairs. Natasha looks after her for a second, eyes narrowing and lips thinning before she moves to Steve’s door, the blonde doing the same.

He opens it, throwing the key into the bowl at the entrance and moving to set Sarah in the living room on the little mat spread over the rug with her toys so she can play. Natasha grabs her laptop – she must have brought it this morning – and sits down on the couch, setting it on her lap.

“Can you watch her while I take a shower?” He asks and Natasha nods.

“Yes, go. You stink.”

“You’re so nice.” He quips tonelessly and moves away with a final glance at the laptop’s monitor. The page is SHIELD’s, the one they use to track people like terrorists or missing people and such. He is sure that she is investigating Juliana, eager to find out everything she can.

He sighs and goes to take a shower. He was going to do the same thing anyways so Natasha is saving him work. He removes his clothes and wonders if leaving Sarah is such a good idea after all.

* * *

[10th March 2014]

He visits Peggy on the day of Bucky’s 97th birthday.

It’s difficult to think about it, both because he knows Bucky never reached that age and because Steve can’t imagine him like that. Like an old man, frail and hunched over and balding, with wrinkled skin and with some missing teeth.

But then, Gabe hadn’t been like that. And Peggy is still tough, even as her memory leaves her.

Visiting her is both cathartic and heart-wrenching. Like seeing a treasured friend but realizing that they don’t remember you more often than not.

Sarah is always happy, strangely quiet and calm like she is with Gabe. Like she can sense how important these moments are and she wants to behave like it.

Maybe Steve is reading too much into it. Sarah is only fourteen months old. Even with the serum, she can’t possibly have the emotional intelligence and awareness to justify his thoughts.

And yet…

“She is so beautiful, Steve.”

Peggy’s raspy voice interrupts his thoughts. He blinks and sees them, Peggy laying back in her bed, white hair fanned over her pillow, a gentle smile on her pretty face. Her brown eyes are tender as they observe Sarah playing with her Bucky Bear on the bed, one of Steve’s hands on her side so she doesn’t fall off.

He looks at the framed pictures around her bed, of Peggy with her husband, her children, her grandchildren. She was smiling on all of them, getting progressively older, her husband missing on the last one – the most recent, no doubt, judging by the completely white hair she is sporting – but she is smiling still.

Happy. Fulfilled. Warm.

“Your kids are all beautiful too, Peg.”

She smiles at him, like she knew he was going to say that. “Yes, they are. All adults now.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Older than you, probably.”

He wrinkles his nose, trying not to grimace. “That’s still strange.”

It’s jarring to have his friends, all of them close to his age just two (sixty-nine) years ago, having fully grown children, then grandchildren. The fact that one of Dum-Dum’s granddaughter’s and Gabe’s grandson are the same physical age as Steve is beyond him, a complete mindfuck.

Peggy’s laugh startles him out of his thoughts. “It’s what you get for being injected with a highly experimental serum.”

“Yes, and thank god I did.”

For all the things that have happened since he took the serum, like the war and Bucky dying and the ice and now living in the future, he finds that he much prefers to have the serum, instead of not having it.

His physical ailments are all gone, making him physically healthy, something he never thought he would experience. Healthy enough to have a baby, another thing he had long given up on. Just allowing him to have Sarah makes up for any of the terrible things that have happened since he took the serum.

He looks at her now, seeming to notice the silence since she looks up from her playing to look between Steve and Peggy, those perceptive grey eyes seeing all, before she grins toothily at Peggy and gives a little giggle.

The tension in the room passes and Steve wonders if she could sense it. She might be a baby still but she is smart. Incredibly so. Always aware of what is going on around her. Natasha had already declared that Sarah would make a great spy. Steve isn’t sure he wants that future for his daughter but whatever she decides, he will support.

“What is going on inside that brain of yours?”

Peggy’s voice pulls him from his thoughts and he turns to her.

“Just thinking about Sarah and her future.” No one knows that Captain America had a daughter and he plans to keep it that way. “I know eventually people will find out who she is but… I don’t want that for her. The spotlight and all the attention.”

“You never liked it. She might.” Peggy says, extending her frail hand and Sarah moves her own, their fingers clasping each other.

Steve gives his friend a look. “She’s one, Peg. She can barely talk, let alone know if she likes having the attention of thousands of people.”

Peggy shrugs, a motion that seems oddly amusing on her aged body. “You never know. Bucky always liked it when Omegas paid attention to him.” She grins at him. “Well, one particular Omega, but still.”

He swallows at the mention of his mate. “It’s his birthday today.”

Peggy’s face softens, grin slipping away but her hand grips Sarah’s tighter, who doesn’t seem to mind it as she fiddles with Bucky Bear’s black mask with her other hand. “I know, darling. How old?”

“Ninety-seven.”

Peggy’s free hand closes on his own, squeezing. “I know you wish he was here. I wish it too.” She glances at the picture closest to her, seeing her own face and that of her son staring back. “I love my family. But sometimes, I wish we were all still together.”

Steve knows what she means. The Howling Commandos. Howard. All of them, together and smiling, growing old together. It didn’t happen but Steve likes the fact that he can see them now, see his friends’ legacies in the form of their children.

“Now, tell me, how is it working with Howard’s son?” Peggy asks and one look at her face tells him she already knows the answer.

“A bit like working with Howard. Their both so alike physically. Both bullheaded and arrogant and proud. But they’re both good people.” He stops abruptly. “Did you know how Howard was with Tony?”

Steve had heard that Howard had fallen into an obsession with finding him, to the point of neglecting his own son, of only looking at the past and never at what was in front of him. A futurist that wouldn’t look at the future.

Well, Steve had just been thinking about all the good things of the serum. This is one of the bad, one he wishes he could prevent.

Peggy sighs. “No. I never met the boy. Howard and I had already drifted apart when Tony was born, and we only saw each other when it came to SHIELD business.”

Steve nods, absent-mindedly brushing away a strand of Sarah’s hair that was falling in front of her face, and when he turns back towards Peggy, he sees it.

The sudden blankness in her gaze. How she blinks and it is as if their entire conversation has vanished, drifted away like dust in the wind. Steve clenches his jaw, squaring his shoulders for what will inevitably come.

Her hand falls away from Sarah’s and her eyes fill with tears as she takes him in.

“Steve? Is that really you? Oh, and who is this lovely lady?”

He grins, the action feeling fake on his mouth, and swallows his disappointment, his grief.

And explains everything to Peggy once again, his heart cracking in his chest.

* * *

[31st March 2014]

Sam is the one who looks after Sarah. Steve has to go on a mission and Juliana wasn’t available so on a bout of last minute desperation he calls Sam. He doesn’t seem to mind though. Sam had come by to his house a few times and met Sarah. His daughter likes him and he likes his daughter.

Still, Steve doesn’t want to leave her.

He has been back on the job for almost two months and he still can’t overcome the guilt he feels everytime he leaves and she cries her little eyes out as if he is never coming back. It broke his heart and he almost cried with her the first few times.

Now, he just pushes through and tries to ignore it. It’s harder than he ever imagined.

Ever since going back, he has been training so much more, pushing himself to the max. He does what he can at home but sometimes he has to drop Sarah off with Juliana or even with Natasha when she is available. It pays off when he observes his physical progress but it is still hard to leave Sarah.

However, this is the first time that he has left with Sam. He trusts the Alpha but is still fearful of what might happen.

So he spends more time than necessary explaining everything to Sam from her sleeping schedule to her eating one, telling him that she doesn’t like bananas and can’t sleep without Bucky Bear (fluffy with light brown fur, black mask and red and blue shirt), the stuffed animal that along with the Cap blanket had been one of the first things he bought. She loves the thing and won’t go anywhere without it, especially to sleep. He tells Sam everything in explicit detail, resisting the urge to write it all down.

Eventually, Sam ushers him out of the house with a laugh and a promise to call if anything happens.

Steve meets Nat at the curb and they leave for the Triskelion, gearing up for the mission at the Lemurian Star. The only thing in his mind is Sarah and how she is doing with Sam.

* * *

[1st April 2014]

He returns the next morning to a quiet house. It is nearly nine and Steve is exhausted. His ‘meeting’ with Fury ran a little longer and he is sure that Sam is late for the VA; it’s a good thing he showered at the Triskelion because the only thing he wants right now it to go to bed.

As he advances more he realizes that there is no one in the apartment. His blood runs cold and he freezes. He is all alone. He runs into Sarah’s room, seeing that her blanket, the Bucky bear and her bag are gone. He gets his phone from his pocket and hurriedly dials Sam’s number, feeling his heart hammering painfully against his ribcage.

Sam picks up after the second ring tone. “Hey, man. Before you freak out, since you were running late and I had a meeting, I just brought Sarah with me to the VA.”

The explanation makes him close his eyes in relief. “Is she okay?”

“She’s fine.” Sam assures him. “All energetic and smiling.”

“I’m coming over.” Steve decides and practically feels Sam’s nod.

“You got it, man.”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Steve hangs up the phone. He grabs an apple from the fruit bowl and leaves the house, munching on the sweet fruit. He feels like he hasn’t eaten in three days. He goes down the stairs and into his car, revving up the engine and going to the VA. He taps on the wheel on the way over, anxious to see Sarah. He misses her already and hasn’t seen her in twelve hours. He just wants to hold her and make sure that she is okay.

He arrives at VA, parks his car and gets out, slamming the door a bit too forcefully, locks it and goes inside the building. He finds the room Sam is lecturing in, his worries melting away once he sees Sarah, perched comfortably in Sam’s arms as he talks. It must be awkward talking about war and PTSD while holding a baby but he pulls it off with grace. Sometimes, Steve is sure that Sam is an actual angel.

The lecture ends on a sad note with a young woman talking about her experience. Steve relates to it all too well – fireworks still set him off and he once even broke Clint’s nose when the archer sneaked up on him from behind. He swallows all his grief and watches Sam coming to him, planting himself in front of the Omega.

Once Sarah sees him, she immediately extends two little arms and he rapidly takes her, tucking her against his chest and leaning his head down to plant a kiss on her forehead. She giggles and he smiles in response, the sound making his heart swell with love.

“Thank you so much, Sam.” He thanks, readjusting the blanket around her and handing her the Bucky Bear that he plucks from the bag on Sam’s shoulder, which she latches onto with the might and grace of a toddler.

“It was fine. She’s a great little girl, aren’t you?” Sam tickles Sarah’s stomach and she kicks her legs in excitement, smiling toothily.

Steve must have made a face because Sam says, “She was perfect, Steve. Nothing happened. She ate, she played, she took her bath and she slept.”

“You gave her a bath?” Steve is a bit surprised.

“I have tones of little cousins. I can take care of kids.”

He feels guilty for doubting him. “I know. I just worry.”

“That’s totally normal.” Again, his face did something. “Everything okay?”

Steve shakes his head. “Yes, just… Work stuff.” Natasha lying to him hurt him more than he thought it would. He wants to let it go but the betrayal just hangs above his head. He hasn’t even talked to her yet. It’s not like she has made an effort to talk to him either. But she is still his friend, no matter her lies. Besides, it wasn’t her fault. Maybe he just needs to learn to separate his professional life from his private.

Sam nods understandingly. “Wanna go somewhere?” he asks, probably hoping to take Steve’s mind off the subject.

Steve smiles. “I’d love to.” Sarah is leaning on his shoulder, clutching Bucky Bear to her chest and looking directly at Sam. Sometimes, Steve feels like she can understand their conversations, pick up the emotions in the room but she is still a toddler – barely even that. She’s a baby and even with the serum (a few months after she was born, they had to do some standard tests, including taking blood, which Bruce ran with Steve’s permission and it came back positive for the serum) she can’t do any of that.

“Let’s go.”

Sam smiles and Steve does the same, smaller as he feels the pit of his stomach clenching and a shiver runs through him.

Something is wrong.

*

After Fury gets shot, Steve practically begs Sam to take Sarah with him. The blonde hurriedly tells him to grab the bag in his dresser and a few extra things for Sarah (which Sam knew since he memorized Steve’s instructions from the day before) and then he takes off after the attacker. Thankfully, they had had Kate’s—no, Agent 13’s ‘warning’ and Sam had stood outside the door, holding Sarah to his chest.

Once he is sure that Sam has reached his car and that Sarah is safe, Steve runs after the shadow ahead of him, the glinting metal being the only thing to guide him. The assassin is fast, faster than Steve expects but he pumps his legs and wills his body not to fail now. He is moving but the only thing running through mind is that Sarah is fine. _She is fine. She is safe. She is with Sam. Sam will protect her._

When they reach the rooftop, Steve cocks his arm back and sends his shield flying. The attacker swiftly turns and grabs it with one metal _arm_. Jesus, a metal arm? Steve’s eyes are wide and he barely gets his hands in front of him before the shield is sent back to him, his feet skidding back on the ground with the force. He looks down at the shield, distracted, hands shaking and heart pounding. What is happening? He feels different. His stomach is in knots and there is a faint throbbing in his neck. He reaches up his hand and brushes his fingers through his bond mark, faint in the base of his neck, next to the collarbone on the left side. It aches. His bond mark hasn’t ached since Bucky died and this only happens when bondmates are away for a while and are reunited again. When Steve and Bucky were together after Azzano this exact same thing had happened.

But this can’t happen now. His bonded is gone. Dead. It isn’t like they are reunited again. That isn’t possible. Unless… His head snaps up but the assassin is gone, disappearing through the darkness of the night and Steve is left there with trembling hands and a hammering heart, feeling as if his entire world has crumbled.

_That’s impossible._

* * *

[3rd April 2014]

SHIELD is HYDRA.

Steve can barely breath and he is sure that it isn’t because of his bruised ribs. He should have known. Should have seen the signs. Maybe he had seen them but just refused to believe them. To believe that SHIELD is HYDRA. One meant to protect and the other to destroy. In the end, two sides of the same coin. It did serve as a reassurance to know that Natasha and Fury weren’t involve, that they had no idea and were just as shocked as him. But Fury is dead. Natasha isn’t speaking to anyone. And Steve isn’t sure what to do with the betrayal that is curling around his stomach.

At least now they are safe. After SHIELD ( _HYDRA_ ) ordered the explosion at the bunker, Steve and Natasha managed to run away, evading the STRIKE team. At least he had the satisfaction of wiping the floor with their asses. Just thinking about Rumlow’s goddamn condescending smirk is enough to make him want to punch a wall. But they have more pressing issues than Rumlow. Like the Winter Soldier.

Steve still can’t shake out that feeling he had when he was face to face with the assassin. His bond mark had flared to life and his blood had sung as if he had just been reunited with a long-lost love. But he doesn’t know the Soldier and Bucky had died in those mountains.

It is impossible for the Soldier to be Bucky.

Yet his heart lurches at the memory, seeing that dark, deadly shadow of a man standing in front of him, eyes bright from where they peeked from the black camouflage war paint. He takes in a shaky breath, feeling heat swoop low in his gut and his limbs trembling faintly. He can’t belief he is fantasizing about an assassin. What is the matter with him?

He sighs and leans his arms on the marble countertop of Sam’s bathroom. Thankfully, the Alpha had been kind enough to lend them his house while they got their bearings together. And Sarah is here, sleeping just outside the bathroom, sound and safe. Steve can’t let her out of his sight and is hesitant to even leave the bedroom she is in. Her protection is the most important thing now. Fury knows about her and about his dynamic. Fury was SHIELD.

SHIELD is HYDRA.

HYDRA will do anything to get their hands on the serum even if it means kidnapping a baby and holding her until she is grown. He tries not to worry. Fury had said that that information wasn’t in his file at SHIELD. HYDRA is resourceful, though. They can easily search his name, come up with a list of all the people in the States and start crossing them out, eventually landing on him, where Sarah’s birth certificate and his status as an Omega are plain and simple in his documents.

That is why they need to act fast and prevent HYDRA from finding out anything.

He gets out of the bathroom, slowly and carefully, shutting off the light and moving silently to the bed. Since Sam doesn’t have a crib she is laying there, pillows and blankets all around her, Bucky Bear lying next to her. He smiles a bit, brushes her hair from her forehead and stores the feeling of her soft skin to memory, treasuring this moment. This tiny bit of peace. This light in the dark. _His_ light.

He wills himself to get out, finding Natasha on the other side of the door. She is drying her hair in Sam’s bedroom while the man is busy in the kitchen. She seems distraught, eyes vacant and faraway, running a towel through red tresses almost distractively, the action more mechanic than willing movements. His hackles rise and, on instinct, he goes to her, trying to figure out what is wrong.

He knocks slightly on the open door, getting her attention. “You okay?”

She nods slightly. “Yes.” She is lying through her teeth and he figures that she must be really thrown off if he can notice it. Or maybe he just knows her that well.

He moves further into the room, always keeping an ear out for Sarah in case she needs him. Natasha looks up at him and follows his movements until he sits down in the chair in front of the bed. “What’s going on?” he asks again.

She stares at him for a few seconds and starts talking. “When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight.” She nods a bit and averts her eyes to the corner of the room. Her jaw works a bit and her mouth opens a few times before she continues. “I guess I just traded in the KGB for HYDRA.” Her eyebrow lifts and she seems so haunted that he wants to do something to sooth her pain. But he stays put and lets her continue, watching her draw in a shaky breath. “I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but…” she shrugs her shoulder and looks at him, “…I guess I can’t tell the difference anymore.”

He waits just to make sure she is finished and says. “There’s a chance you might be in the wrong business.” 

She huffs out a breath that might be a laugh, corner of her mouth rising on instinct. She stares a bit at him and he smiles slightly. “I owe you.” she whispers softly and nods her head.

He shakes his own. “It’s okay.” It is. Her worth isn’t measured by that.

“If it was the other the way around and it was down to me to save your life, and you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?” she wants to know, _needs_ to know.

“I would now.” He answers and sees her expression lift, almost surprised by his answer. “And I’m always honest.” He quips and she grins the tiniest bit.

“Well you seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing.” She observes and he smiles a bit bigger, leaning back on the chair.

“I guess I just like to know who I’m fighting.”

Natasha simply looks at him, something lighter in her gaze. There is a knock on the door and Sam’s voice comes through.

“I made breakfast. If you guys eat that sort of thing.”

Steve raises his eyebrows, shaking his head. They weren’t aliens. He is about to say something to Sam when his ears pick up a cry. He is out of the chair before he can think twice, moving down the hall to Sarah. She is still in bed, wide awake and blinking up to the ceiling.

“Hey, sweetie.” He picks her up, making sure to have her blanket so she can be wrapped around it. The Bucky Bear is clenched in one tiny hand and she immediately sets her other in his chest to balance herself out.

“Da.” She says and he smiles a bit. She has been babbling for a while now but only recently did she start actually saying words. She knows what things are and such but mouthing them has been a bit hard. Still, Juliana says that Sarah is much more advanced than the other children and Steve is sure that it is because of the serum.

He feeds her, changes her and gives her the green pacifier she likes so much. She quiets down again when she is in his arms, blanket covering her body, full and clean and warm. He wants to keep her here forever, away from danger and HYDRA and the horrors of the world. Safe and sound. He rubs her back, humming along a song and she sighs against him, small chest moving up and then down, content. He doesn’t even remember the song he is humming, just a few bits and pieces, but it is Irish and his mother used to sing it to him when he was younger. It calmed him down better than anything else. It seems to have the same effect on Sarah.

He leaves the bedroom when he realizes that it has been a while since he has been in there and goes to the kitchen. Sam is at the counter and Natasha leaning against the marble, arms crossed. They aren’t talking, doing their own thing (Nat is just staring ahead) and so they both turn when he arrives. Their smiles are fake and only for Sarah’s eyes and he thinks that they are good friends, if they care about his daughter that much that they are willing to pretend to be happy just to please her one-year-old mind.

That morning he discovers that Sam is a certified badass, finally sees a picture of Riley (Steve relates to Sam’s feelings because he too knows what it is like to watch someone you care about fall to their deaths. He too feels like he was there just to watch.)

Juliana takes his call and they drop Sarah off with her before going for Sitwell. It is hard to leave her, especially now, but he can’t take her with him. It is too dangerous. He kisses her forehead and promises that he will come back, no matter what. Juliana seems to pick up on the tense environment because she tells Steve that she can stay with Sarah for a few days since her daycare is closed right now (something about the rent). Steve thanks her more times than necessary until she laughs and throws him out. His heart aches miserably but he pushes through. The sooner HYDRA is done, the sooner he can go back to Sarah and escape this nightmare.

They kidnap Sitwell, Natasha throws him off the roof and he is rescued by Sam, who looks like an angel more than anything. Things are going well until the Winter Soldier appears.

He is even deadlier now, standing in the middle of the driveway while cars race past him at break-neck speed, knowing that he is the most dangerous thing around. He isn’t after Sam or Steve, no. His target is Natasha.

Just as he is about to shoot her again, Steve appears, shield in hand and the metal arm connects with it in a flash, making a humming sound that resembles the one that he heard when Thor’s hammer hit the vibranium in the forest all those years ago. Being in close contact with the Soldier makes a tingle run down Steve’s spine but he ignores it, focusing on the fight. They are pretty much equals, even if the Soldier strikes to kill, with heavy moves and skull-crushing hits, which lack Steve’s grace and fluidity but get the job done either way.

Steve has got him beat until the mask falls and with it so does Steve’s heart.

“Bucky?” he whispers, broken and disbelieving.

This can’t be. All those worries and that suspicion. They were true. They were real. Steve feels his chest breaking, a gaping hole where his heart used to be, hollow and dark. Bucky is alive. Bucky is an assassin. Bucky is with HYDRA. He simply stares and stares, his mind running through all the memories until they land on one. Sarah. God, Sarah. If they find out that she is the daughter of Captain America and the Winter Soldier, they will definitely take her now.

“Who the hell is Bucky?” Bucky, his Bucky, so sweet and so tender, asks, brows furrowed in true confusion, voice rough. He doesn’t know who Steve is. He doesn’t even know who _he_ is. There are tears stinging his eyes and a gun is lifted, aiming at him but he can’t move, can barely even think.

Sam knocks Bucky to the floor ( _be careful!_ ) and Natasha makes the car behind him explode. When Steve blinks away the smoke, Bucky is gone, disappearing yet again. STRIKE arrives and Steve does what they say, mechanically and stiffly (just like Nat this morning). They get them all in the van and Natasha is bleeding from her shoulder, Steve has soot all over his face and Sam looks relatively fine.

Zola experimented on Bucky. Somehow, it helped him survive the fall. Maybe another serum – the HYDRA equivalent of the one running through Steve’s veins. And all he can think is that it makes Sarah even more precious, more wanted. With both the serums in her DNA (and given how much it enhanced Bucky) she is a superior being. Probably more than Steve. More than Bucky.

 _Bucky._ They took him. Grabbed him and ripped him away from Steve, from his soulmate, from his husband. HYDRA took everything from him and he will be damned if he lets them get their filthy hands on Sarah.

Determination fills him just as Maria Hill rescues them, disguised as an escort in the vehicle. She gets them to an abandoned structure and they all find out that Nick Fury is alive. Fury lied to them all. Steve is sure that he isn’t the only one to catch the look of utter betrayal on Natasha’s face since Fury winces and it is probably half pain and half guilt.

Steve is angry, beyond so, snapping at Fury and telling him that everything goes. Nothing will stand once he is done. The world will crumble at his feet for what they did to Bucky and for what they plan to do. HYDRA will die and Steve will make sure of that. This isn’t just about him – it’s about his daughter, his light, who will not know what it is like to have HYDRA in her life. 

He will fight. For her, for himself, for Bucky. For his family.

* * *

[4th April 2014]

Bucky isn’t his anymore.

He is gone, trapped in a maelstrom of torture and death and so much destruction. His hands don’t know anything that isn’t killing, his heart doesn’t know love, he doesn’t know happiness. He knows nothing of that – only knows how to be a fatal force, brute strength and swift moves, lethal and dangerous and so powerful.

He is a half-machine half-animal terror of a man, ruthless and deadly. He has torn apart nations, destroyed institutions, littered the ground with enemies, has killed just for killing. He has no conscience, knows no compassion or guilt or fear. His mind is a blank slate and his body is used only for killing and his heart is as dark as his soul.

Bucky’s isn’t his anymore.

Except, when Steve looks at him, in between punches, when he talks to him; then he looks human, haunted and broken, but human. When grey eyes widen and there is a flicker of _something_ behind concrete walls. In those moments, hope grows in Steve’s chest but then Bucky, standing over him and crushing him with his weight, throws another punch, metal arm vicious as it strikes his face. Steve is battered and bruised, his gunshot wounds pulling with each movement and his entire body burns and aches. He won’t hold on for much longer now, he knows it and Bucky knows it.

As such, in his last breaths, he says, “Then finish it,” he chokes on a breath, broken ribs pushing against his lungs, “because I’m with you ‘till the end of the line.” To the very end. He will stand with Bucky, his soulmate and husband, through everything the universe throws at him. To the end of the line.

Bucky stills over him, eyes big and shiny, metal fist cocked back to deliver the final punch, the one that will end Steve. But he doesn’t and Steve’s heart weights on his chest. Bucky hesitates and he looks so scared, afraid to move, to do something, anything.

The helicarrier, which had held on for much longer than expected, finally breaks. It crumbles, giving one terrible groan and then the window beneath Steve completely disappears. He falls and falls and falls, Bucky and Sarah on his mind. He hopes that Natasha will take care of her – knowing the Omega, she will do her absolute best, she always does. He wishes that she could see how amazing she is; how much she is worth. Sam is one of the best people he has ever met. So good and so kind, Steve wants to tell him that he can do so much if he just stops feeling so guilty about Riley.

As he slams into the water, his vision blacks out, his last thoughts on Sarah and Bucky, and the last thing he sees is the flash of a metal hand. Then, darkness swallows him and he knows no more.

* * *

[6th April 2014]

Steve’s climb to consciousness is slow and gradual. The first thing that comes to him is touch – something light and warm over him, his back resting on something firm but soft. Then it is sound, the methodic beeping to his left, then someone’s deep voice to his right and a melodic tune somewhere in front of him. Smell comes next, bringing the scent of antiseptic and the sharpness of citrus. The last is sight as he blinks his eyes open. He is lying on a bed, in the middle of a hospital room and he sees the phone playing that tune he heard. He looks down at himself, sees his own body like he doesn’t recognize it. He still aches everywhere, can feel that his ribs are held with gauze, the bandages over his gunshot wounds (left thigh, back and abdomen), the compress against his shoulder for the stab. His eye hurts like a son of a bitch, but he can see more than he did before.

That gentle voice reaches his ears again and he turns his head to the right, eyes falling on Sam. He is sitting in the chair next to the bed, a book cracked open in front of him and in his lap, is Sarah. She is holding onto Sam’s wrists as he holds the kids book in his hands and she is staring at it intently, occasionally making a little sound of contentment when Sam reads a particular part. She looks good, healthy and safe and Steve’s vision blurs with tears.

“On your left.” He murmurs, attracting their attention. Sam’s eyes are twinkling, dark and endless, and a smile stretches across his lips. Sarah turns to look at him as well and she grins toothily.

“Da!” she exclaims and reaches out her hands to him. Sam, realizing that Steve can’t move much, tries to hold her back and her chin wobbles when she notices that she isn’t going to her father.

“It’s okay.” Steve quickly assured Sam, letting the Alpha hand Sarah to him. Her little arms go around his neck and he buries his face in her hair, inhaling her scent. It mends the wounds in his heart a bit, but the tears still spill down his cheeks. She pulls back and he sets his hand on her back to hold her. Her weight is right on top of his injuries but he couldn’t care less.

“Da.” She repeats, frowning (that frown reminds him of Bucky so much), and she seems to have picked up on his change of behavior. He smiles, teary and shaking, running his thumb over her cheek. She looks a lot like him. At first, during the first few months of her life, she had some features from Bucky but now, she’s Steve’s daughter through and through. The only thing she has that looks like Bucky are the grey eyes and some mannerisms, because other than that, she is like a female copy of Steve.

He doesn’t know where Bucky is. Doesn’t know if he will want to come back to Steve and to their lives. To their daughter. He tries to let it go, tries to focus only on Sarah but it is impossible – almost everything she does or says reminds him, somehow, of Bucky. Even the concerned way she is staring at him brings back memories of that same look on Bucky’s face.

“It’s okay, baby.” He says and she seems to understand him, nodding a bit. “I’m fine. Just sleepy.” He isn’t fine and he isn’t sleepy but he has realized that sometimes you to lie to your children. Sarah smiles again, happy that her father is happy and he smiles softly with her.

“What were you two reading?” He asks in hopes that Sam will stop staring at him with that pitiful expression on his face. He doesn’t need pity, never has and never will. Yet, he also can’t help wondering if there is some sympathy there as well. He ignores all of it, desperate to not jumble his thoughts and listens as Sarah babbles about something. He doesn’t understand half of it but he nods uncourageously and smiles.

Sam sits more on the edge of his chair and sets the book so all of them can see. Sarah moves so that she can lie down between them, her head in Steve’s shoulder and his arm around her body to keep her from falling. Sam continues with the story, occasionally looking back at Sarah to see her reaction.

In that moment, Steve feels some peace inside him. Just him and Sarah and Sam, with music playing and the Alpha’s soft voice. Nothing else.

But then he remembers Bucky and that happy visage comes crumbling down.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!
> 
> i can't say exactly when i will post the next chapter, which will cover the time between the end of tws and the start of aou, because i'm very busy with college and, you know, life in general (which is a dumpster fire these days)...  
> but i won't abandon this work, that i can garantee!


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